


Beautiful.

by yellowcurtqins



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst With A Mostly Happy Ending, Cyrus needs a hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Insecurities, M/M, comfort crowd by conan gray, dudes this is an accurate representation of my depression, if it doesn't match u idk what to tell u, maybe I'll do a part two bc Cyrus hasn't gone to therapy yet, tj gives him that hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 14:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20584361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowcurtqins/pseuds/yellowcurtqins
Summary: In which TJ wants Cyrus to see himself the way TJ sees him.





	Beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! I pushed my shit onto Cyrus!! Yay!!

𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞’𝙢 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣’𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣’ 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮  
𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞’𝙢𝙢𝙖 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙖 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙞’𝙢 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙮  
𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙨  
𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣’ “𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙢𝙚”  
𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚  
𝙞’𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮

Cyrus stares at the ceiling, unable to draw an expression on his face as he gazes off. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine. No, he’s not, but why does he deserve to be? 𝘎𝘰𝘥, why does he have to be like this? Why does he have to be so 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤? It’s not like anybody even cares enough to help him, anyway. 

But he needs help. 

The brunette pulls his phone from his pocket, numb as he types in the password. He slides through it, his eyes falling into a squint when the brightness of the screen enters them. The boy scrolls through his contacts until he finds his most frequented ones. As his finger hovers over Andi, over Buffy, he figures it out. They don’t care. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴. 

Pick someone else.  
Does he even have anyone else? 

And, before his exhausted mind can catch up to him, he’s sending a text. Or, rather, a chain of texts. It’s just a moment before he realizes how stupid, how fucking codependent he sounds. And then, he’s trying desperately to fix it. 

𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬: TJ  
𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬: Please be there  
𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬: I need you god can you come over everything hurts I’m sorry I’m so pathetic I don’t deserve anyone  
𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬: Jesus christ that sounds so stupid

𝐓𝐉: cy  
𝐓𝐉: i’m here  
𝐓𝐉: i’m coming over

Great. Now TJ knows how pathetic he is. 

𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬: I’m sorry I know this is annoying  
𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬: just  
𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐬: Ignore that haha I’m fine

𝐓𝐉: ur obviously not fine b  
𝐓𝐉: and that’s ok u dont have to be fine  
𝐓𝐉: i’m coming over b there soon

Cyrus sinks into the soft fabric of his covers, simply wondering how he could be stupid enough to text TJ. The basketball player doesn’t deserve this; he doesn’t deserve to be forced to comfort Cyrus, forced to be his friend. It’s not like he wants to be. Why does Cyrus have to 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯 everything? Why does he have to be so fucking 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴? The teen stares into the dreary air, falling short of breath somehow as he leans on his pillows. 

The vocabulary of his mind scrawls one word over and over, repeating like a broken record.  
𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥, 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥… 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥.

But… wait. TJ can’t see him like this, a puddle of worry and worthless and wet. He’ll figure it out, how much disdain he has for the boy. He’ll figure out how done he is. Cyrus can’t let that happen, he can’t lose TJ. As his one-word-mantra pokes harshly at his mind, he drags his hands over eyes, tears he didn’t even know had fallen collecting within his palms. The water serves as gel as he runs his hands through his hair, combing it roughly into place.

𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦, he lies, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.

Panic hugs him like an old friend, pulling him far into his mind as everything registers behind the numbness painted on his face. He made TJ worry. He made his best friend, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩, worry about him because he’s such a baby. TJ is worrying about him because he makes a big deal about everything, and he can’t handle shit, and he’s so helpless and 𝘎𝘰𝘥, why can’t he just pull himself together—

Cyrus’ thoughts are interrupted by a tap at his window. He looks over, unsure of whether he’s relieved or panicked to see a familiar blond boy staring in, the look on his face consumed with worry. The brown-eyed teenager takes as deep a breath as he can force into his lungs, plastering a smile onto his lips and walking over to the window. 

The jock climbs in, immediately pulling Cyrus against him. He wraps the boy within his arms, burying his face in Cyrus’ dark strands of hair. The brunette tenses, stilling in the embrace. When TJ pulls away, he presses his palms to his best friend’s cheeks, gentle as a summer breeze. His voice is soft in the light of Cyrus’ bedroom, almost like a lullaby. 

“Are you okay?” Cyrus holds his breath. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, the lie cutting into him like a dull knife. The captain’s stare of disbelief crawls within his soul to uncover every truth, every hidden tear.

“Cy,” he says, almost pleading. “You don’t have to say yes. It doesn’t always have to be yes.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t think anybody’s ever asked me that before, and I’m so fucking tired, and I’m so pathetic, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” Cyrus breaks. He shatters in TJ’s arms, and he can feel every piece cutting into the blonde as he chokes on his sobs. He’s worrying TJ, hurting him, shoving all his stupid problems onto the jock. How can he be so selfish? “I’m sorry I’m burdening you. You don’t deserve this, I shouldn’t have texted you…” 

He glances at his friend, trailing off as sees the look in TJ’s eyes. “Listen to me, Cyrus. You’re not pathetic. You are 𝘯𝘰𝘵 a burden.”

“I—“

“You are 𝘯𝘰𝘵 a burden. Say it,” TJ pleads. It’s almost as if he…cares? The brunette caves. 

“I am not a burden,” he whispers, feeling a piece of him fall back into place. TJ smiles at him, lips tugging upward in a way that has butterflies fluttering in Cyrus’ stomach. 

“That’s progress,” the athlete says, green eyes lightening as the words float from his mouth. 

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝’𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣’ 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞’𝙢 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮  
𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣’ 𝙪𝙥 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙨 𝙞 𝙡𝙖𝙮 𝙪𝙥𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙮  
𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣’ 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞’𝙢 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚  
𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮  
𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙝  
𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮

“I’m fine, you know,” Cyrus says, raising his head up from its place on his crush’s stomach. The sophomore looks at him for a moment, eyes shaded with doubt. He sighs into the air of the room, reaching down to comb his fingers through the younger boy’s hair. He speaks, his voice sweet like honey as it drips from his lips. 

“You’re not a very good liar, Goodman.” 

“You’re the only one who’s noticed.” TJ’s eyebrows furrow at that, and he pulls the smaller boy further into himself, fingers tracing his friend’s cheekbones gently. 

“How long have you been feeling like this, Underdog?” he asks, voice soft as if the slightest raise of volume will crack the pieces they’ve put together. 

“I dunno,” Cyrus whispers back, trying to paint a small smile onto his quivering lips. “A while, I guess.”

There’s a silence before the basketball player says, “I’m sorry I didn’t pay enough attention.” Cyrus looks at the taller boy, stunned that he could feel like any of this is his fault. TJ seems to be biting back tears as the two stare at each other, the only sound in the room their breathing as it falls between them.

“This isn’t your fault, Teej. Not even a little bit.” The brunette raises his hand from TJ’s chest, moving to cup his jaw. He holds back a blush when his friend leans into the touch.

“I should’ve noticed, but I didn’t, and now you’ve been hurting for God-knows-how-long, and no one has been there when you needed them. I haven’t been there when you needed me.” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Cyrus cooes. “You’re here now, T. That’s all that matters.”

“No, look at this. You needed me, and now I’m the one being comforted,” the older boy responds, an embarrassed red creeping onto his cheeks.

“Okay,” the brown-eyed boy says. “Then, we can comfort each other.”

TJ nods, his lips brushing against the freshman’s wrist. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝙬𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣’ 𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣  
𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙝, 𝙞 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚  
𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣’  
𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙞 𝙘𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮  
𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙  
𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙜𝙜𝙮

“I guess I just don’t really like who I am,” Cyrus murmurs into TJ’s chest, hiding himself in the fabric of his friend’s hoodie. He feels the athlete shift to look at him, probably realizing how messed up he is. Surprisingly, he doesn’t lecture Cyrus, or yell at him, or even agree with how much there is to hate. He simply whispers:

“I don’t see how that’s possible.” And, suddenly, the brunette is trying to fight away a storm of butterflies, a shy blush, a speeding heart rate.

“It’s very possible.” 

“Tell me how,” TJ says, his voice somehow comforting and challenging simultaneously.

“Well, I’m annoying, I’m clumsy, I can’t do shit, I’m dorky, I’m—”

“Beautiful,” the blonde interrupts. Cyrus stills. He has to have misheard that.

“What?” He looks up at his friend, who seems to be fighting off a blush of his own.

“You’re beautiful.”

“You… you really think so?” Cyrus asks quietly. All the sudden, he’s feeling timid.

“I do. You know what else you are?”

“What?”

“You’re funny. You’re sweet. You’re caring, understanding, forgiving. You’re amazing, you’re so smart, you get so excited about little things and it’s adorable. You’re the only person I can talk to like this, the only person I 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to talk to like this. You’re the only person I want, in general. You’re brilliant, Cyrus Goodman.”

Cyrus is speechless as he looks at the team captain. “TJ…” 

“You may not like yourself, Cy, but I like you. I really like you, and it hurts that you don’t see yourself the way I do.”

“I like you too, Teej.”

The smile he gets in return is almost blinding. “Wow. I didn’t expect to get this far. What now?”

“I don’t know either,” Cyrus replies, chuckling slightly. TJ grins, his eyes coated with hope. 

“Be my boyfriend?” the blonde asks nervously, playing with Cyrus’ fingers. An exasperated sigh erupts from his lips when the brunette moves a hand to his face in a thoughtful position. “Cyrus,” he whines fondly.

“I have to think,” he teases, giggling at the groan that TJ lets out.

“You’re killing me, Small.”

“Pretty sure it’s Smalls.”

“Not when it comes to you, it isn’t.”

“You’re on thin ice with this boyfriend thing, Kippen,” the freshman warns, smirking when the athlete’s expression turns to one of regret.

“I take it back,” he says frantically, as Cyrus laughs. “I take it back, Jesus Christ, I take it back so hard—”

The brunette cuts him off by kissing his cheek, his lips light as a feather against the skin. He giggles as TJ tenses, a giddy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend, dork.”

Wow, things are progressing today. 

𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙  
𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙  
𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨  
𝙬𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙  
𝙗𝙮 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙬𝙚’𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙  
𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙪𝙥𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙨  
𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨  
𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙙  
𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙣

“Teej!” the brunette whines, trying to simultaneously block and fight off his boyfriend’s fingers as they attack his sides. “Mercy! Mercy!”

“Never!” TJ responds triumphantly, flipping the shorter boy around to tickle his belly. He pauses for a moment, distracted by the messy strands of hair that hang from Cyrus’ head, by the out-of-breath smile that dangles from his lips, by the red that tints his cheeks. He’s gorgeous. Truly, stunningly magnificent. 

When the athlete escapes his daze, he’s under Cyrus, hands held at each side of his head as the boy hovers over him. He’s got this mischievous look in his eye, as if he knows how distracting he is. TJ hopes desperately that he knows. 

The laughter in the air mellows, and the teens are just looking at each other, staring as the distance between them decreases. Somehow, TJ thinks that Cyrus can see behind his eyes, can see all the unsaid things, all the flooding emotions behind the chosen 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

If he sees it, he doesn’t mention it.

Instead, Cyrus chuckles slightly, smiling dreamily at the boy he’s liked for so long. “Gotcha,” he whispers, the word soft as the hands intertwined with his.

“You always had me,” TJ replies, and another piece falls back into place. 

Cyrus feels his cheeks dust pink, desperately trying to mask how flustered he is with a teasing pout. “Who could’ve known you’d be such a sap?” he asks, his teeth showing in a wide smile as the athlete rolls his eyes fondly. 

“Oh, c’mon. You have to have known that already.”

Cyrus moves his hands from his boyfriend’s, flopping down on the bed beside him. The brunette exhales, and adjusts a strand of hair that’s hanging from TJ’s scalp. He sighs, his breath falling against the blonde’s face gently. Their hands find each other again between their bodies, interlacing just barely. Cyrus smiles before responding.

“Yeah, but, it’s 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 showing now.”

“I don’t have to hold back anymore, Beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” 𝘊𝘺𝘳𝘶𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵𝘴.

“Beautiful.”

𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭. Cyrus says the word so many times in his head, he’s not sure if it's an actual word anymore. TJ thinks he’s beautiful. He’s said it before, but it feels like the first time. 

“You’re really something, TJ Kippen.”

“I’m your something.”

“Does that make me your beauty, then?”

“Yep.”

𝘏𝘶𝘩, Cyrus thinks. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙬  
𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙝, 𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙  
𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙝, 𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮  
𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚  
𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙬

It’s crazy, Cyrus thinks, how the blonde boy can make everything feel so much better so quickly. And, of course, he knows it’s not just fixed right away, but at least he has someone who’s there. At least he has someone who cares. 

As the boys lie on Cyrus’ bed listening to Troye Sivan’s voice fall through the speaker of the brunette’s record player, Cyrus looks almost peaceful. TJ is hiding most of his face in the covers, peeking at his boyfriend as he lip syncs along to 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘋. His eyes trace the slope of the boy’s nose, the gentle hill of his lips, the array of lashes and faded freckles that decorate his face. He’s an angel. TJ’s angel. The blonde can’t help but smile when Cyrus catches him staring, crinkling his nose as his face becomes flushed.

“Stop that,” Cyrus says as the boy retreats.

“Stop what?” he asks, looking sweetly at Cyrus.

“That. That look.”

“What look?” TJ knows how lovesick his expression is. He can’t stop; Cyrus is just too cute. 

“That one!” Cyrus argues, his lips tugging into a smile. TJ’s dreamy smile morphs into one of competition, and he raises his eyebrows challengingly.

“What are ya gonna do about it?” he teases, and Cyrus can’t help but melt.

“I could kiss it away?” The brunette seems nervous all the sudden. TJ smiles, nodding almost imperceptibly. 

“Please.” 

“Really? You wanna kiss me?” 

“So much,” TJ breathes, mind going into overdrive as the shorter boy rolls over, leaning on him. Small hands cup his jaw lightly, and TJ can feel everything; Cyrus’ breath on his lips, Cyrus’ eyelashes brushing his ever so slightly, Cyrus’ forehead resting on his own, Cyrus’ fingertips tracing his freckles, 𝘊𝘺𝘳𝘶𝘴’ 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩, Cyrus, Cyrus, Cyrus. 

Cyrus Goodman is everything.

“Thank you,” the brunette says as he pulls away, cuddling into his boyfriend. TJ grins, lovestruck.

“For the kiss?” he asks through a giggle.

“For the kiss. For being with me. For being here at all.” The captain presses a kiss to his temple.

“I’ll always be here, love.” The smile Cyrus gives him is beautiful. And, TJ tells him, again. “You’re beautiful.”

“Stop trying to kill me, you gorgeous asshole.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to call your boyfriend.”

“What? Gorgeous?” TJ rolls his eyes fondly.

“I can’t hear you over your radiating beauty, Cy.” 

And, for the first time, as his boyfriend looks at him in the soft light of his room, Cyrus is starting to feel it, to feel beautiful.

𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘛𝘑, 𝘊𝘺𝘳𝘶𝘴. 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭.

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙙  
𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙙

**Author's Note:**

> Ofc Cyrus is gonna start going to therapy btw. I might make a part two for that, just to make sure he gets the help he needs. 
> 
> IT'S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY. You can ask for help. You CAN ask for help. It's okay to go to therapy. You're not gonna be completely fine afterwards; it takes time. Please know that you're valid <3
> 
> kudos and comments thx luv


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